


Too Pretty

by kueble



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: First Kiss, Getting Together, Insecurity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:22:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27711974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kueble/pseuds/kueble
Summary: Eskel thinks Jaskier is too pretty for him.  He's wrong.
Relationships: Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 18
Kudos: 202





	Too Pretty

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: Perhaps Jaskel and 28? One person tracing the other’s lips with a fingertip until they can’t resist any longer, tilting their chin towards them for a kiss.

Eskel has heard all about Geralt’s bard. Hell, they all have heard way more than anyone ever needs to about Geralt’s bard. He’s happy his brother finally has a friend, but there’s no way the man can be as chaotic and charming as Geralt tells them. But the first winter after they started travelling together, Geralt’s stories stopped being so gods-damned depressing, so maybe he had some sort of magic about him after all.

None of the stories prepared him for this.

The bard hops down from Roach with an energetic bounce, even as it’s clear to see that he’s shaking from the cold. His enthusiasm flows over as he introduces himself to everyone, his smile never faltering - not even when he meets Eskel’s scarred face. He doesn’t bother with handshakes, just flings himself at everyone, hugging them tightly and leaving a path of confused witchers in his wake. He grins at Eskel as he pulls back and whispers out a soft, “well hello, handsome,” that doesn’t even sound fake. Lambert snorts from somewhere behind them, because of course everyone heard that. Eskel is so stunned that he can’t even respond, just blinks slowly as Jaskier shoots him a quick wink and scampers into the keep.

Fuck, he’s _pretty_.

Eskel spends the next week avoiding the bard. Well, he does his best, but they have to share meals. He knows it’s childish, but he’s not used to looking at anyone - let alone a human who is most likely fucking his brother - and wanting so deeply. Only Geralt doesn’t seem to realize that Jaskier’s flirting with Eskel every chance he gets. So either Geralt is actually as stupid as they all mock him for, or they’re not together.

\--

“He’s so stupidly gorgeous,” Eskel complains, glaring at Lambert over the rim of his drink. And he should know better than to trust Lambert’s homemade brews, but there’s no way in hell he’s dealing with these _emotions_ sober.

“He’s...very hairy,” Lambert concedes, laughing when Eskel flips him the bird. “What? Saw him in the hot springs yesterday. He’s downright furry.”

“I want to pet him,” Eskel mumbles before letting his head fall to the table with a thump. He taps his forehead against the wood a few times, punishing himself like the idiot he is.

“Yeah, I know. You’ve been acting like a lovesick maiden since he got here. Put the moves on him or get over it. It’s disgusting,” Lambert says with a sneer.

“Remind me to beat you up tomorrow...once I can feel my legs again.”

“Look, I’m only going to say this once and then we’re never going to talk about your sex life again, ok? He’s been flirting with you every chance he gets. So either take the bait or let him down easy. Geralt will probably kick your ass if you break his heart,” he chuckles.

“He’s too soft for me,” Eskel protests weakly, not bothering to lift his head from the table. Lambert - that bastard - just snickers at him and refills his cup.

\--

“I’m not fucking the bard,” Geralt growls at him one night as they pass in the hallway.

He’s gone before Eskel can reply, so he just stands there for a moment and wonders how this became his life.

\--

Eskel isn’t hiding - he really isn’t - but it’s not his fault if no one frequents the library late at night. He pulls another book off the shelf, prepared to go back to the comfiest armchair in the whole keep, when he hears a cough from behind him. He doesn’t jump because he’s a fucking _witcher_ for Melitele’s sake, but he does spin around faster than he should, dropping the book in the process.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” Jaskier says with a breathy laugh. And then they’re both bending down to grab the damned book and Eskel has to do his best to ignore the tingle that shoots up his arm when their fingers brush together. He clutches the book to his chest like a shield and waits for Jaskier to announce why he’s there. “Right, ah, awkward isn’t it? Anyway...I was just coming to see if you wanted to join us. Vesemir is cracking open _the good stuff_ , whatever that is.”

“I’m reading,” Eskel says, because he is a complete moron.

“And avoiding me as well,” Jaskier says, frowning. He bites his lip, and Eskel can’t stop staring at it once he starts. “I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot, and I’ll stop...pursuing you. Contrary to popular belief, I do know how to take a hint.”

“You were being serious?” Eskel gapes at him, floundering as the bard nods and purses his lips at him.

“I’m hopeless in the face of beauty. It’s a bard thing,” Jaskier says, shrugging as he rocks gently on his feet.

“You’re...not lying?” Eskel states, confused as he casually sniffs at the air around them. The bard honestly thinks he’s beautiful. 

“Not much use to lie in a keep full of witchers,” Jaskier snorts softly. “Anyway, I’ll stop with the whole, flirting thing. Sorry again.” He turns to go, but Eskel just reaches out and catches him by the arm.

“You’re far too pretty for me,” Eskel says truthfully, but Jaskier just laughs loud and openly at him.

“Flattery will get you absolutely everywhere, my dear,” He drawls out, his voice suddenly rougher around the edges. Eskel tugs him, pulling him closer until there’s barely any space between them. He brings his hand up and trails a finger across the mouth that’s been taunting him since he saw it. Jaskier gasps softly, his breath hot against Eskel’s fingertips. He traces the shape of Jaskier’s bottom lip and revels at the sound of the bard’s heartbeat quickening. His pupils widen and all of a sudden he smells like honey and jasmine and Eskel’s not sure he’ll ever get enough of it.

“Tell me to stop,” Eskel warns him quietly.

“Never.”

And so he crushes their mouths together. Jaskier whines deep in his throat and his hands fly up, finding purchase on Eskel’s shoulders. He’s stronger than anticipated, clutching desperately at Eskel as their lips brush against each other. Eksel deepens the kiss, chasing that sweet honey taste lingering in the air. He can feel the blood buzzing in his veins, feels like he’s drowning in the ocean of Jaskier, and it’s everything he’s imagined and more.

They don’t end up drinking with the others that night.

**Author's Note:**

> Come play with me on [Tumblr](https://kueble.tumblr.com/)


End file.
